


The Demons' Guide To Keeping Humans

by beeblue



Category: Shall We Date?: Obey Me!
Genre: Additional Warnings In Author's Note, Dark, Eventual Happy Ending, M/M, Romance, m a y b e, male reader - Freeform
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-08-02
Updated: 2020-09-24
Packaged: 2021-03-05 05:42:18
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 4
Words: 7,190
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25429375
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/beeblue/pseuds/beeblue
Summary: It doesn't have to be a soul exchanged for a pact. It could be money, magical items, potions, a fancy car, one's first born. Whichever the demon in question prefers and whichever the human in question is willing to give up.Unfortunately...you ended up being the thing someone else was willing to give up.Obey Me! x Male!Reader-Insert
Relationships: Asmodeus (Shall We Date?: Obey Me!)/Reader, Beelzebub (Shall We Date?: Obey Me!)/Reader, Belphegor (Shall We Date?: Obey Me!)/Reader, Leviathan (Shall We Date?: Obey Me!)/Reader, Lucifer (Shall We Date?: Obey Me!)/Reader, Mammon (Shall We Date?: Obey Me!)/Reader, Satan (Shall We Date?: Obey Me!)/Reader
Comments: 27
Kudos: 157





	1. Welcome To Your New Home!

**Author's Note:**

> This is a dark, angst-ridden male!reader-insert with romance. It follows the basic plot of _Obey Me!_ but with changes--some minor and some major--particularly in regards to world building. There will be lots of spoilers as the plot beats follow the game and this work assumes anyone reading is familiar enough with what's canon and what's not to recognize when things have been changed or altered.
> 
> I do a fair amount of applying traits to you and apologize in advance if this makes the story hard to relate to. Things like height, general body type, and vague age range (about 17-20) have been decided. These are details I personally find it incredibly hard to write without using.
> 
> This story comes with a lot of warnings. There's many scenes and topics that may be disturbing to some readers to have written out in explicit detail. This is a romance but it's also dark. Trust me when I say there's warnings for pretty much everything you could possibly think I'd need to tag for either happening, having had happened in the past, or referenced. I cannot stress enough that if you're likely to be bothered by darker content or anything explicit (violence, sex) then turn back now.
> 
> The premise of this story is that the reason the insert is in the Devildom is because he got traded by his mother as part of a deal and is treated like a pet. For a chunk of the story he's literally seen as if he's an actual pet. It's not just some kink shit that amounts to little more than calling him one and that being the end of it. He essentially is one with a name tag that has an address and phone number on it and everything. Diavolo literally buys him from the demon who made a deal with his mother in order to give him to the brothers as a "gift". That's the level of problematic we're on. If you don't feel comfortable reading about that or any of the other shady stuff then you've been warned.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> short prologue is short

"When I said 'pet' I was thinkin' more like," the demon introduced as Mammon gestures to where you stand awkwardly in the entryway of his home, "a dog. More like a dog. That's not a dog." He scratches irritably at his messy head of white hair and makes the locks even more unruly in the process. You've seen lots of strange things during your unfortunate stay in the Devildom so far but hair the color of fresh snow is something new, made even more noticeable with the way it contrasts against his tan skin. Aside from the odd hair and eye colors he and his brothers could easily blend in with any given crowd of humans like a pack of ambush predators. The thought makes them seem even more unsettling than if they'd been monstrous in form.

It's not much but it's a small comfort he at least doesn't seem gleeful at the idea of owning a human as a family pet. When Diavolo had gone through the process of telling you all of their names and titles only one of them looked at all optimistic about the proposition and considering it'd been explained he was the Avatar of Lust, well, it's not difficult to reason as to _why_.

"Or something more..." Satan has his nose upturned, emerald eyes as cold and hard as a gem. He'd been frowning since the very beginning when he first saw you trailing meekly after the prince and current de facto ruler of the Devildom. It appears he's thoroughly displeased with the current state of things; though it's doubtful his distaste has anything to do with finding the idea of owning you unethical. "Of the feline persuasion." He finishes flatly, touching the tips of his fingers to his chest. If he were wearing pearls he'd surely be clutching them.

Diavolo 'tsks' and pats your shoulder, nearly crushing you in the process. As if it wasn't bad enough he was looming behind you like a giant. A very scary, intimidating giant whose presence is a constant reminder you can never hope to escape. "And after I went through all the trouble to pick one. You know it's hard to find these ever since I made taking them against their will against the rules." For such a powerful, terrifying man he can sound incredibly childish. Whining about how his gift is being received poorly. "His previous owner didn't part with him willingly either." He holds up a thick stack of papers barely held together by three staples. "She even insisted I take this with me, stressing many of our staple foods are...quite poisonous to him. There's an entire list of them."

He may as well start listing off tricks you can perform or ramble on about how excited you get at the prospect of taking a walk in an attempt to endear you to them. Being spoken of as if you're not even in the room, not even a person worth addressing isn't anything new at this point but it's something you're unlikely to ever get used to.

"Fucking great..." Mammon mutters to himself.

You turn your attention to the mansion that's to be home now to distract from the open stares. Even for a fancy place it's quite large and opulent with luxurious decor. Overly large and over the top. The price tag for any given item inside would surely make any normal person shudder. It would be an elegant and breathtaking place but the dim lighting and the random bones (yes, you're certain they're _real_ ) used as sconces or wall art make it eerie and uninviting. It all adds to your building unease. It's like stepping onto the set of a cheap horror flick except this is reality and not just for any camera.

Asmodeus claps his hands together, drawing unnecessary attention to himself. "First things first!" He approaches in quick strides to fiddle with your name tag, bringing with him the heady smell of cologne. The scent of which you cannot quite place. He's the shortest of the brothers which makes him about your height, only gaining more of an advantage thanks to the exaggerated heel on his polished dress shoes. Being able to meet his gaze head on is somehow more unnerving than if he could tower over you like the others. You gulp at the proximity and the intensity of his inspection. "[Name], huh? We're going to have to get a new collar right away. This one is so dull." He runs a thumb over the letters stamped on the tag. He says it like having a fashionable collar is at all a concern for you and that getting a new one would be a favor. The somber leather affair buckled around your neck is preferable to whatever gaudy thing he'd no doubt pick, if his own sense of fashion is anything to go by.

Seriously, is he allowed to call what he's wearing a uniform with the sheer flimsy fabric underneath the blazer leaving nothing to the imagination and his nails painted bright pink and green? Mammon's shirt may be wrinkled and his sleeves rolled up and his tie done incorrectly but at least he doesn't look like a stripper.

"You really shouldn't have, Lord Diavolo. We can't possibly accept--"

"Now, now." Diavolo interrupts Lucifer with a wave of his hand and then he offers the guidelines for care your previous owner had so kindly written up to the reluctant man. "I thought your brothers always complained about not having a pet." He's all very pleased with his own genius and it's clear he won't take no for an answer.

Lucifer looks desperate to refuse but holds his tongue. He grips the stack of paper, gloved hands crumpling the edges. He's barely so much as glanced at you. Not that there's any complaint. With five pairs of eyes zeroed in on you it's plenty uncomfortable enough as it is.

All Leviathan has to say is, "I'm going back to my room." He ruffles his overgrown blue fringe and stalks off without ceremony, grumbling to himself about making a big deal out of nothing and wasting his time when he had more important things to do.

The last to speak is Beelzebub who has up till now been watching everyone with an expression that most closely resembles mild concern. "What do we even do with him?" The unsaid 'besides eat him and or devour his soul' hangs in the air. Aside from Diavolo, Beelzebub is the largest in the room. Not only does he have height but muscle as well. He could probably snap you like a twig before you even get the words 'hey, carrot top' out of your mouth. Yet somehow he seems the least threatening. For the moment.

It's Asmodeus who answers him with a chuckle, as if it's the most obvious thing in the world and his silly brother should know it already. "You _play_ with him, of course." This makes an uncomfortable, sick sort of feeling settle in the pit of your stomach like a heavy stone. Whatever he means by play likely doesn't include fetch.

"I suppose, if anything...it's possible that we can use him for the exchange program." Lucifer muses while flipping through the packet. The more pages he sees the deeper the crease between his brows. "He requires vitamins? For what?"

"Oh, what I great idea! I'll go do the paperwork now!" Before any more protests can be made or anyone officially rejects his offering Diavolo decides to make his escape, taking the suggestion as acceptance. He gives you another friendly and painful slap on the back. "Let me know how he does for you!" With a cheerful smile that's a bit forced and a quick wave he slams the door shut behind him. Gone almost as soon as he'd come.

Lucifer huffs, glaring at the door as if he could set the prince on fire through sheer force of will. With the way his red eyes seem to glow you'd almost believe he could.

For a short while nobody moves or speaks. Asmodeus is content to continue his examination, tipping your head from side to side and walking around you in a complete circle. You don't know what to do with yourself. You're smart enough by now to know acting up is a stupid move despite feeling your skin crawl and desperately wanting to tell any one of them to fuck off. Being defiant, you've learned, gets you less than nowhere against immortal creatures with abilities beyond your understanding. It'd be suicide by demon.

Finally he turns away to address the others. "Well, unlike you ungratefuls, at least I like him. We are keeping him right?"

Mammon scoffs and puts his hands to his hips. "Diavolo seems to think he ain't gonna be trouble but I gotta feelin' that ain't the case..." He's checking you over more closely this time now that Diavolo is gone. "He's quiet now but he's got a nasty look in his eye. Don't like that."

"You say that as if he'd be able to do anything." Satan lets out a sharp, humorless bark that can barely be called laughter. "He's toothless."

There's a heavy sigh from Lucifer as he smooths down his already perfect hair. "Regardless, we'll just have to keep him for the duration of the exchange program if Diavolo is intent on it." He doesn't sound particularly enthused.

"I'm tellin' ya this is gonna be trouble." Mammon shakes his head.

"Oh, hush, we've interacted with humans for thousands of years. How hard could it be to watch over just a single one of them?" Asmodeus chastises his older brother, absolutely tickled by how everything has turned out.

**How hard _indeed_.**


	2. First Day of School

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This took longer to get out than necessary. I apologize to anyone who may have been waiting for it. I've suddenly gotten super busy in my real life and so fandom endeavors have had to take a back seat to being a responsible and "well adjusted" human being. However, while I don't have as much time as I use to I'm now reliant on fannish activities more than ever to relieve stress and have fun. It's a bit ironic now that I enjoy working on fics more than I ever have now that I have significantly less time to devote to them. All that to say updates may be sporadic but they will be there.
> 
> That being said there is a bit of an update in regards to the nature of this story in general. I still love the characters and the story but I have stopped actively playing the game for multiple reasons (one of them being it takes me forever to get to chapter to chapter and for someone who is in it primarily for the story elements and interacting with the boys and not the actual game play this makes it very tedious and not fun. I feel like I spend 99% of my time on the app waiting around for the promise of something I actually enjoy and then only getting two seconds of it and as someone who is now pretty busy in my day to day life I just no longer have the energy for it...or time, unless I want to play the game instead of writing or anything else. Well, I won't be the first person to be into a game and its fandom and not be super active with the game itself and I certainly won't be the last). This all means that while I have every plan to continue this fic (at whatever snail pace I end up doing it) I will not be following canon as closely as I originally intended. I will get spoilers and perhaps try to find play throughs to base this fic off of but it will no longer be "canon with my own twist" and now more like "not really like canon just using characters and the setting from it to tell a vaguely canon shaped story".
> 
> Also, as a note, because I know it may inform some of my writing...I have no idea whatsoever what the fandom is up to (aside from a few choice people I follow and talk to). What are the popular headcanons/fanon? I don't know. I find I enjoy engaging with fic and am more motivated to do it the less I know about what other fans are up to on social media. So if you see something and are like "didn't get the fandom wide memo on--" no, no I purposefully did not get the memo.
> 
> Also also, when it comes to the brothers' height I sort of make it up? I know what their heights are supposed to be in relation to each other but not what the actual measurements are so I just make it up and also make the differences in height a bit more exaggerated than the drawings show. Who is supposed to be taller and shorter is still exactly the same though.
> 
> Enjoy!

"How did you sleep last night?" Despite the cheerful way Asmodeus asks the question you're painfully aware there's only one correct answer. He says it the same way you might've baby talked your dog once upon a time. It's more for the master's benefit than the pet's.

"Good." You don't dare look over to where he sits to the left despite feeling his eyes drilling into you like burning embers, opting to instead stare at the food littered on your plate. Most of it isn't even edible for a human.

Would it be better to simply act as if you have no appetite or tell them they're feeding you wrong? Lucifer had studied the packet your previous owner had given him for so long he surely must've memorized everything written down and should know anything spiced with imp's bell can be lethal to non-demons. You don't even know the name of everything spread out on the formal dining table but the curled and shriveled petals of imp's bell are on most of it.

But just like the poisonous flower displeasing them could also prove to be lethal. So you keep your mouth shut and use an ornate silver fork to push around something similar to scrambled eggs but which certainly doesn't smell like them.

"The arrangements were rather last minute." Asmodeus glances around at his brothers as he nibbles what appears to be a sort of meat but it's dark purple in color and cut into rectangles. He holds it pinched between his thumb and index finger because when he tried to stab it with a fork it fell apart like crispy bacon would. Though unlike bacon it's incredibly unappealing. Someone might as well try to feed you shoe leather.

He's gauging their reaction to the one-sided conversation but all of them would rather pretend they can't hear him. So he turns to you instead and places his free hand on your knee, ignoring the way you jump in place at the contact. It sends a shiver up your spine. The unpleasant kind of shiver that makes you feel a little sick. "Still, aren't you spoiled already, getting your own room and everything."

Said room is nothing more than what used to be the servants' quarters next to the kitchen and overgrown with ivy. Nothing to write home about but at least you have your own full bath. It was only available for use because the demons don't use actual servants but instead odd little creatures made of black smoke. They scurry around and do the bidding of the brothers and when not called upon disappear as if they never existed at all. Thus it was left to collect dust for who knows how long before you showed up. It's comfortable enough considering how spartan it is in comparison with the rest of the mansion and how hastily it was thrown together for an impromptu guest. It would've been more comfortable without the aforementioned shadow creatures spying on you periodically throughout the night. Still, you manage out a, "yes, thank you," in response.

"Hurry up and eat before it all gets cold and you're late to class." Lucifer says from the head of the table, steaming cup of coffee in one black gloved hand and paperwork in the other. Like you he's barely touched his food. Likely too distracted by whatever work Diavolo has thrown at him last minute than because of a poor appetite. With a sigh he continues, not even bothering to pull away from his files, "Mammon, I talked it over with Lord Diavolo and we both agree that you should be responsible for [Name]. Ensure there aren't any accidents."

Mammon chokes on his drink mid swallow. Some of the toxic green juice in his glass dribbles down his chin as he sputters. "Wh-what! Why? Asmo's the one who wants to spoon feed the little shit!" He grabs a napkin and crumples it in his fist as he wipes away the mess with more force than necessary.

Lucifer directs his ruby eyes to you, witnessing as Asmodeus shoves a few dark grapes into your mouth. The sight does not amuse him. "Well if I don't do it he seems intent on starving himself." Asmodeus sing songs with a shrug. In goes another grape.

The atmosphere goes from awkward to tense in a split second as Lucifer's attention switches back to his rebellious brother. Even Asmodeus, who was perfectly chipper, shifts to a more serious demeanor. Still Mammon goes on undeterred, "I didn't even want him. He can just be Asmo's problem."

"Why? Because I said so." Even such half-hearted defiance fires up the dangerous temper simmering inside Lucifer and it's your first hint that he, out of all of them, will be the one you should take extra special care to never cross. Ever. "It's an order."

The glare Mammon is receiving is so intense you dare not move or make a sound for fear it may be upon you instead. Just being in the same room as the two of them facing off is unpleasant. For a moment everyone waits with bated breath to see if Mammon challenges his older brother's authority. The hand resting on your knee turns into a painful grip as Asmodeus' fingers curl. The painted nails scraping against the fabric of your new uniform slacks.

"Tsk. Fine." Mammon relents, throwing in the metaphorical towel. There's a clear hierarchy at play and Lucifer is at the top. The mere idea he'd use physical force or his powers enough to keep the others in line.

You just hope Mammon doesn't see fit to take it out on you later as displeased as he is with the marching orders.

"Good." And just like that the oppressive air is gone as Lucifer goes back to his papers.

"Are you going to eat that?" Beelzebub's plates are all already empty, they could even pass for clean with how thoroughly he's put things away, and now he's got his sights on what's left of yours. Despite the question not being answered yet he's reaching for a fluffy biscuit unfortunately made with ingredients only a demon could stomach.

"N-no. I'm...I'm not that hungry." It's a lie. You're very hungry. Your stomach is ready to turn inside out and eat itself at this point. Beelzebub just doesn't notice the growling noise it's making because he either doesn't care or is simply too enamored by all the food to tell. Perhaps both.

He barely even chews before swallowing the biscuit in one bite and moving on to a type of hash brown flavored with dragonshade and imp's bell. Whoever was on kitchen duty really, _really_ likes that stuff.

"Ugh, you are the definition of a bottomless pit. You could at least try to have some class." Satan is sitting directly across from Beelzebub and the show he's making of breakfast. The way he will occasionally chew with his mouth open or double fist pieces of meat, oblivious to the world openly disgusts Satan. Even now that he's being addressed he doesn't pay the criticism any mind, happily munching away as if no one else is in the room. "And you, not to your liking?"

It takes longer than it should for you to realize he's speaking to you, causing him to raise a brow at the delayed reaction. "I just wasn't all that--"

"I know, I find Levi's cooking to be unpalatable as well." He interrupts, reading you like one of his books. There's one lying beside him on the table even now. A thick volume with yellowed pages. It's hard to make out the faded title in gilded letters but it has something to do with symbols of one sort or another.

Leviathan is the only one not at the table leaving you to assume he must've scurried back to his room immediately after making the meal. Your surprise must show on your face at this revelation because the corner of Satan's lips quirk up at the sight. "It's mandatory otherwise he wouldn't bother. The lesser demons simply burn everything so we take turns." His pleasant mask is ruined by the sharp way he's scrutinizing you. The gears are turning in his head and it's like he's come across a tool he can't quite find the use for and is trying to figure out what to do with it.

"Well, as lovely as this has all been, I'm gonna head out." Sarcasm drips from Mammon's every word as he practically leaps from his seat. The wooden legs scrape against the marble floor as he does so causing Lucifer to subtly wince in displeasure at the shrill noise. He grabs his bag from where he'd thrown it beside his chair and turns on his heel ready to bolt for the door.

"Take your charge with you." Lucifer reminds him.

Mammon stops in his tracks, shoulders drooping, and while you can't see it with him facing away you just know he's rolling his eyes up towards the ceiling. "Yes, mother." He mocks in a high voice.

* * *

If you thought school in the human world was grueling...nothing compares to how terrible demon school is. Not only is the coursework tedious and difficult to understand but the campus is massive, practically its own town. It's like someone took a Gothic castle and then made it large enough to house however many hundreds or thousands of people would be attending the academy. And the other students...

Most of them find you interesting in the same way you'd find a steak interesting after having not eaten for three days straight. You're actually a bit glad Mammon was assigned to walk you from class to class even if he's a grump about it (there's also the fact you'd for sure get lost otherwise). He may not like you but he's yet to drool at the thought of biting into your flesh so that's something.

At least you think he hasn't thought about it...you hope...

The two of you have barely said anything to each other throughout the day. In fact he hasn't really said anything directly to you at all, ever, come to think of it. While he obviously hates playing babysitter you're not sure if it's because of you specifically or just the chore Lucifer has made out of it. You've only had one class with him so far out of five so escorting you around means he's had to go out of his way quite a bit.

You don't feel at all guilty for being an inconvenience considering the circumstances but it'd be a problem if he lashed out due to annoyance.

"If I were you I'd wipe that tormented look off my face. Demons do love that look so much." You were spacing out thinking of all the new things you'd come across today so you didn't realize someone had taken the spot next to you. "Is it because you're in hell or is it because this is potions class? Your name's [Name] right? Oh, don't look so shocked you're the only other human here and besides...name tag and all." The surprisingly chatty man gestures to your collar.

You clear your throat, incredibly embarrassed he'd point it out so blatantly. "You're the other exchange student?" Admittedly you're a bit jealous of how at ease he is, leaning back against the wooden bench and surveying the dimly lit room like he owns the place and nothing can touch him. He exudes confidence. Like Mammon he has snow white hair but his isn't as unruly. His skin is almost as pale as his silvery hair and his stormy gray eyes complete the rather colorless picture. Even his clothes are all black.

"The one and only Solomon at your service."

You should feel safe around a fellow human but he inspires anything but comfort. The smile he gives you is similar to so many others you've seen in the Devildom. It's all for show, a mask that barely hides a calculating mind. There's something about him...something about the way he fits in so well with the surroundings that makes alarm bells ring in the back of your head. He's anything but a normal human stuck in less than ideal circumstances. Unlike you he's in full control.

You frown, turning your attention to the front of the class as the teacher gets her materials ready. The set up is surprisingly old fashioned with nothing more than a free standing chalkboard and a cluttered lab table. If anything else it fits the lavish Victorian aesthetic the academy has going on but seems an odd choice for a time when everyone has D.D.D.s in their hand.

Asmodeus then decides to make an appearance right before the bell rings, taking a seat on your other side despite the desks only meant to accommodate two students at a time. He simply refuses not to join you and Solomon. This means you're forced to be packed in tight between the two like a bunch of sardines, nearly touching Solomon who is a complete stranger and with Asmodeus practically crawling in your lap. It's not just undesirable because of the position but because of the stares you're starting to get (one of them from the teacher who gives a pointed look before pretending not to have seen anything).

"Finally, I was starting to think I'd never see you again." He whines with a pout. Ignoring your obvious discomfort is beginning to be a pattern with him.

Solomon rests his chin on top of his hand and smirks at the sight. "Already? That was quick." Is seeing you squirm really so amusing? Is everyone down here a sadist? What you wouldn't give to wipe that smugness off of someone, anyone's face. Give them a bloody nose.

As it is you just have to bite your lip and play the part of a demure and helpless little human who doesn't want any trouble. "I-it's really not what it looks like." You defend weakly while trying to get your arm away from the Avatar of Lust but he merely tightens his grip.

"Don't listen to him. It's exactly what it looks like." Asmodeus leans in close to your ear to hiss, " _Behave_."

You stiffen immediately. He's never used that tone with you before and it's a bit unexpected. Not that you've known him long enough to really know what to expect in the first place but it just didn't seem his style. You bite down on your lip and remind yourself that it's okay to suffer indignity in order to survive. As much as it hurts your pride to relent it would hurt a lot more to go against him. Especially in public. So you stop resisting.

"Alright class, I know we're all exited to start mixing dangerous chemicals together, but today we'll start with going over the syllabus..." The teacher begins to drone in a nasally voice as she writes her name out on the board. It's almost disconcerting how much this parallels high school. Except high school textbooks didn't have recipes for an elixir that makes people ooze slime. Gross. "Call me Violet. Yes, just Violet and I'll be--" At this point you stop listening, already paying more attention to the stone walls and how the torchlight flickers across them than her monotone rambling.

You close your eyes and imagine a sunny day. You haven't seen the sun in almost an entire year. It's not something you'd thought you'd ever desperately miss but being in a world where it's always dark does strange things to you.

The sunlight would be warm on your face, the sky the brightest blue, a gentle breeze would bring with it the smell of freshly cut grass. Birdsong! You haven't heard the soft twitter of birds in what must be forever. The gentleness of earth, of the human world, you long for it more than anything--

The daydream is cut short by Asmodeus' wandering hands. One arm snakes around your waist while the other moves up to place his fingertips on your chest, right at the spot where the dress shirt gives way to skin. "I was thinking--" _That can't be good._ "--has anyone...broken you in yet?"

Solomon is acting so enraptured by Violet's speech that you just know he's only pretending not to eavesdrop on the whispered conversation (and he's probably not the only one). Even if he didn't want to know what's being said he's so close it's impossible not to. That sick feeling is bubbling up from the pit of your stomach again. The result of your instincts and your better judgement fighting against each other. One says fight or flight and the other _do you want to be killed? Just go along with it._

"What, uh, what do you mean?" There are a few ideas but you're stalling for time.

"Playing dumb doesn't suit you." Is all he replies with. "I just want to know if I can look forward to training you or if it'll be retraining instead."

In all honesty a conversation like this was expected. Especially from someone of Asmodeus' particular reputation. Just not so soon...and not in the middle of an ongoing class with multiple pairs of eyes and ears on you. _Why here? Of all places?_

"Yes." It's said so quietly that if if Asmodeus' wasn't plastered to your side he might not have caught it.

"Yes what?"

"I've...do I have to say it? Here? We're in class." For the first time you face him, hoping puppy dog eyes are a thing that works on him. It's incredibly hard to maintain a pleading face when you sort of want to vomit. But pleading and praying that the person you're begging is into it is the only chance you've ever had of getting your own way at times.

"I just want to hear you say it. Admit it so everyone knows." His breath is hot against your neck and his nails dig in where they rest. "Admit that you're a used toy or I'll _show_ them."

You gasp as he places a hand on the inside of your thigh. Clearly he'd follow through with the threat.

"Asmo stop torturing the poor kid. We're supposed to be taking notes." Solomon thankfully comes to the rescue. His disapproving voice sharp and full of authority. Apparently he thinks whatever game Asmodeus is playing has gone on long enough.

Surprisingly Asmodeus actually listens to him, slinking back on the bench and huffing. "You're no fun."

"Don't let him get to you too much. The pest just gets off to humiliation." Solomon says. You didn't even notice there were tears welling up in your eyes until he appears genuinely concerned and takes on a soothing tone. This does anything to make things better. In fact it makes them worse. As if you're a child with a skinned knee who needs babied to keep from bawling. You wish you could just sink into the ground. If Asmodeus was going for humiliation he certainly succeeded. In fact, his "teasing" brought up a lot of unwanted feelings and memories that has you gritting your teeth and clenching your fists.

You're so emotional and busy trying to calm down the anxiety that you don't even stop to question why Asmodeus even listened to Solomon in the first place.

"Hmm...so retraining it is then."

**_I'm going to get out of this place one way or another...or die trying._ **

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So there it was folks! Hopefully it wasn't too bad. I personally feel I rushed myself a bit over taking the time to ensure quality but I really wanted to get it posted because I'd also feel guilty waiting any longer. Not just because of the readers but guilty for not living up to my own expectations. And because I'm excited to start getting into the meat of things. Plus, I'm gonna justify it by saying I can just revise it later if I'm too unhappy with it. Tell me what you think :D
> 
> Also yes, I am sort of focusing on Asmo the most first despite Mammon being canonically the one that warms up to the MC first. I feel like with his particular sin he would be the most open to such a thing because he sees the "fun" in it more than the others do. Plus, I feel like he gets slept on a lot...I also relate with him on the grounds of being horny and he's a good excuse to put that energy into writing so *insert lenny face here*. I also love doing the "does something super fucked up and manipulative but, like, with a smile and a cheery attitude" angle you can do with his character.


	3. Late Night Snack

Sleep doesn't come.

The events of the day keep replaying in your head.

Mammon being a jerk about school (can whatever R.A.D. is really be called a school? can teaching people how to be more evil count as education?) and escorting you to each and every room at the academy with a foul attitude. His surliness is preferred over Asmodeus'...odd behavior but the way he already hates you so thoroughly without you doing much of anything makes you fear what might happen if you accidentally do something to make him mad.

Asmodeus being a humiliating creep and scaring you almost to tears in front of an entire class. That was the worst part and you still feel lingering shame over how it was handled. You couldn't have done much of anything but the sense you should have is there anyway.

The other students aren't much better, making horrible comments like you weren't within earshot. Saying things about how weak you are, how much human parts go for on the black market, all the things they could and would do if the collar around your neck didn't have the address it does on it.

Even the lessons themselves were unsettling. Things about spells to enthrall people, potions to paralyze them, and demonic history...just when you thought the bloody pasts of power hungry kings and emperors from the human world were bad. They're kittens in comparison to what you had to hear about. Not to mention anything or anyone who expects you to utilize magic is going to be sorely disappointed. How do you pass tests and classes which require you to have innate abilities you don't possess?

It's all too much.

And after everything your stomach is still completely empty. It hurts.

Your previous master was nothing short of cruel but at least she knew how to feed you properly. When she wanted to.

All you can do is toss and turn. Too hot, too cold. Not enough blankets, too many blankets. Your skin is crawling. It feels like you're being watched but whenever you look around there's no one there. Not even the shadow creatures you'd glimpsed the other night. Nothing to see but the vague outlines of some sparse furniture. An empty bookshelf, a small dresser, a nightstand, a faded rug. Nowhere for anyone to hide.

The most interesting part of the room is the tree growing up to the ceiling. it's not a very big tree, being able to fit inside a bedroom, but its canopy is enough to reach over your head. It adds an earthy, almost comforting touch to what otherwise feels like being stuck in a basement. If you stare long enough you can trick yourself into seeing shapes in the dim leaves and branches. And faces.

Finally, you put away the fantasy of rest and throw the sheets off. The air in the House of Lamentation is chilling, making you shiver. The floor is no better once you pad to the edge of the rug. The stone underneath bare feet is freezing. It doesn't help that the only thing you're wearing is sweatpants.

Thankfully your target isn't that far away, just on the other side of the smaller and more informal dining room connected to your chambers. It's never used in favor of the more opulent grand hall that could probably be used as a ballroom without the giant table smack in the middle. It's become a sort of storage closet over time. Cabinets and bureaus lining the walls, full of random objects and stuff thrown into the corners. It's hard to make out what exactly everything is in the darkness (and to be honest it's probably better you don't know what cursed artifacts are in here) but there's enough ambient lighting from the moon outside not to trip over anything.

Seeing the perpetually full moon always makes you feel stuck in time and place. It's actually a good thing your bedroom has no windows to see it from. Beings for who time is more or less inconsequential may not care whether the sun rises or the moon waxes and wanes but for you it's purgatory. A constant reminder of being taken from home.

When you push open the swinging door which separates the kitchen from the dining you come face to face with Beelzebub.

"Oh..." The two of you stare like a pair of deer caught in headlights. Beelzebub with his hand full of potato chips halfway to his mouth and you standing in the doorway like you've been caught doing something forbidden.

"You wanted something too?" It's Beelzebub who breaks the awkward tension first, stuffing his face with the salty snack after deciding your appearance is of little consequence to his own mission. A mission which consists of emptying the pantry single-handed.

There's a fire crackling in the hearth and the orange glow highlights Beelzebub's already fiery hair. The entire scene minus the refrigerator could be taken from a period drama. Complete with him brooding in the middle of the night. A prevailing theme throughout the mansion and even R.A.D. The entire Devildom is ancient in appearance and then there'll be something jarringly modern. Much like the inhabitants themselves who are all unimaginably old, powerful beings with only the veneer of youth, disguising themselves as something close to human. Only for the mask to be ripped away when you least expect it.

It's incredibly difficult to get a read on him just sitting there like a bored college student with the munchies. Chewing and keeping a watchful eye on your every twitch. Is he spacing out? Waiting for you to make a wrong move so he can punish you for it? Is it that there just isn't anything going on upstairs at all?

"Couldn't sleep..." You check the fridge for something edible but all that's left inside is a half empty carton of what _might_ be milk, a few eggs that definitely aren't from a chicken, that poisonous juice Mammon was drinking for breakfast, and a bunch of condiments whose names you can't even begin to pronounce. The freezer isn't much better with the only contents being a frozen custard with Beelzebub's name written on it with a big, messy permanent marker and popsicles. Not trying your luck with that, especially with how he's staring.

Next you begin to rifle through the cabinets, confidence growing the more you realize he doesn't care you're going on a scavenger hunt through everything. There's a lot of spice jars with questionable ingredients, some with labels and some without, but little in the way of anything safe to eat. Most of it honestly doesn't even look safe for even a demon to consume. They should probably be in an alchemist's workshop and not right next to the pasta.

You do, however, find the Devildom's take on ramen. Eleven packets of it.

Surely that won't kill you even if it _is_ the off brand hell version.

"Make me some."

"Ah!" You about come unglued with how close his voice is. Just how did he get up without making any noise considering how big he is? Sneaky bastard.

He let's out a snort of amusement and even hunched over a bit his breath only ruffles the hair on the top of your head. The height advantage there is so not fair.

"H-how many?" You tear open one packet in preparation, to have something to do, there really isn't anything else possible at the moment seeing as you can't move much with how Beelzebub is practically pressing you into the counter.

 _Seriously, is this an intimidation thing?_ If it is it's working. It could be he's just dumb and oblivious or it could be he knows exactly what he's doing and just playing it off as if he doesn't. Some people find that sort of thing amusing.

"All of it." Of course. Should've seen that coming. Gluttony and all.

"Is there even a pot big enough...?" Eleven servings is a lot and you still don't know where everything is kept.

Instead of answering Beelzebub steps away to grab one that had been drying by the sink and fill it with water, giving you some space. He then places it on a hook over the fire with his bare hands, not even bothered by the heat in the slightest as the flames flicker over his skin and flash in his amethyst eyes. It's amazing how they'll all unwittingly find ways to keep reminding you that what you're dealing with isn't human no matter how much they appear so at times or pretend.

"What's school on earth like?" The question catches you off guard. Especially coming from someone otherwise apathetic to most anything going on around him. Certainly he's not trying to make small talk for your benefit. Why exactly he'd want to know is a mystery.

"Boring from what I remember." They also didn't instruct anyone on how to trick others into giving you their soul but he probably already knows this. He isn't that dense. Surely. The cafeteria in both realms is equally safe though. "A lot more homework. A lot less potion mixing and runes."

"That doesn't sound fun."

"It being fun isn't the point but yeah. It's nothing like R.A.D." You dump the noodles into the pot to boil and then grab a bowl to empty all the seasoning into. It keeps your hands busy and will make it easier than having to rip them open one a time while the noodles get soggy. There's dehydrated veggies mixed in with the flavoring but not much else to dress the trashy meal up. You don't trust anything else in the kitchen and what other options there could've been have already been eaten by a certain someone. "Why?"

"Bel--someone I know is part of the exchange program."

You chance a glance at him. He was about to say a name but stopped himself. Why? You can't recall ever meeting a demon whose name starts with 'Bel' and certainly not one whose participation in Diavolo's vanity project would need to be kept a secret from you of all people.

Whatever he's hiding isn't anything to do with you. Which makes his slip all the more intriguing.

"Can we put cockatrice eggs in?" He abruptly changes the subject.

Can't those things turn people into stone? Are their eggs even okay to cook with? They even exist?

"Sure, why not." Against your better judgement you find yourself relaxing a bit. This is sort of like being around a thick headed roommate who doesn't understand the concept of personal space. Perhaps letting your guard down is a mistake but you're too tired and hungry to care. It can't hurt just this one time right?

Wrong.

"I'm curious. Do you have another sibling I haven't met? If you're all the embodiment of the seven deadly sins there should be seven but--"

Just like that, in a flash, you're pushed against the counter. The hand slapped over your mouth so forceful the back of your head hits the edge of a cabinet. Pain blooms there and you let out a muffled grunt he ignores. If having him simply loom over your shoulder was intimidating this is downright terrifying.

"Don't talk about that. We'll get in trouble." His tone is downright murderous, rivaling even his oldest brother in authority. "You should know your place."

 _We_. Not _you_ but _we_ will get in trouble. There's a story behind that.

Your heart is battering against your rib cage so hard and loud he must surely hear it. All you can do is nod mutely until he removes his hand, sure that you've gotten the message he isn't playing around.

Fuck. You're such an idiot. This is why "speak only when spoken to" is a golden rule.

"I'm sorry, I'm sorry, I'm so sorry. It won't happen again. I didn't--shit, I'm sorry. Please."

As suddenly as his temper reared its head it's dissipated. He leans away and goes to finish the ramen like nothing happened. Doesn't even comment on your babbling apologies or how automatic the reaction had been.

"Food's done."

* * *

You know that you're dreaming because the sun is shining and there's the chirp of birdsong. The air is warm and the wind gentle. You're also not wearing your collar, a good indication this isn't reality more so than the blue sky, you've had to wear the damn thing for over a year straight.

You almost feel naked without it despite being fully clothed.

But there's a sort of static cutting through the pleasant atmosphere, making you fill ill at ease and ruining the illusion. The feeling of being watched the same as when you fell asleep is there. As if something is about to pounce on your back.

"You poor, poor thing." A quiet, smooth voice says by way of greeting. "It seems you're trapped. Same as me."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> *evil laughter*
> 
> i really should start thinking of better chapter names or something lmao


	4. Author Update!

I'm sure this is disappointing being a notice and not a new chapter. I'm working on the new chapter/have it finished however the file on my computer got corrupted somehow and I'm trying to figure out how to recover it (I suspect it may have something to do with my computer updating around the same time but I'm not tech savvy enough for this shit). Just want people to know I'm still alive and this is still going to get more chapters. I know it's been a while. If I have to I will rewrite the chapter entirely but I'd really prefer to get back the work I have if possible.

I'm sorry it's taking so long :(

Look forward to MC having a bad time as usual though...ha ha only sort of joking..........sort of.

I appreciate everyone's support so far.


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